Whiplash
by Failure Turtle
Summary: Cars. Women. That's all he cared about until he met someone that restored his love of wrestling. BatistaxOC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Don't fret, friends. I still hate Batistafhaskdfhdfjsjfdjfa. Sorry, that's how angry he makes me. But, I did once say that I would eventually write every Superstar and Diva, so here we have it. And if Danielle didn't ask, I probably would have made up some freak of an OC. Meh. And this story probably wouldn't be written at all if a **_**certain**_** WWE Superstar hadn't referred to me as his soulmate. For details, see the profile of SunnyLee.**

**Tell your friends, kids. Tell your friends.**

"Put down the fucking magazine and let's get to work," John Cena said, reaching out and yanking the issue of _Muscle Car Weekly _out of Dave Batista's hands. Angrily, he growled, "Come on. We have a tag team match to go over with Cody and Ted, and I don't want our spots getting screwed up because you're too worried about your new engine that's coming in from Germany!"

"Settle down, Cena," Dave rumbled back, standing up and snatching the magazine back from John. "I'm just reading a magazine, here. It's not like I'm neglecting my job or anything."

"Not neglecting your job? Jesus Christ, Dave! You bring a different girl here each show with a different car. You spend more time texting your cheap lays and ordering new parts for your custom cars. Are you forgetting where this money is coming from? Your job is what's paying for you to be able to take out the rats and buy new rides. But you don't appreciate that, do you?"

"You're one to talk, Cena," Dave mumbled. "You're just as obsessed with cars as I am, if not more."

"Why am I even arguing with you about this? I, unlike you, care about what happens out there. I don't want anybody to get hurt. And with your level of concentration and devotion to this, somebody is going to get hurt."

"You know what, Cena? I hope it's you. That way, I don't have to hear your bitching."

John sighed. "You selfish bastard. If I were in your place, I would hope to god that it was me who got injured so that others wouldn't have to pay for my stupidity. The careers of those two kids are too young to be damaged by an injury."

"You don't give a damn about either of them, Cena. You know that."

"To hell I don't," John rolled his eyes. "Look, guys like us aren't going to last here forever. But it looks like you aren't going to last much longer at all. You're lucky that you're so over with the fans. If there's one thing that Vince loves more than anything, it's work ethic. That's something that you _clearly_ don't have."

"Oh, you're on first name terms with the boss?" Batista asked, raising his eyebrows. "How about you get your head out of _his_ ass and leave me alone. That, John, would be quite an accomplishment for you."

"You know what, Dave? I don't care anymore. Just read your magazine and find yourself a pretty new car to pick up pretty new girls. Whatever. But when you land in a hospital because you're an idiot, don't expect me to visit you."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: It's currently four in the morning, and I'm supposed to be awake at nine to drive down to Chicago, but yet, here I am. Why, do you ask? Well, in all honesty, if I update this, then Danielle will update my favorite story EVER, and that would make me happy. Like…super happy. Happier than driving two hours only to see Cody and Ted (LOSE) at the all-star kickoff show for SmackDown. Happier than Cena being out for a while. Happier than Edge's soon to be return. And THAT is pretty darn happy.**

"You are _so_ lucky," John grumbled as he walked backstage with Dave, both clutching their newly won World Tag Team Championship belts.

"Luck has nothing to do with scoring these meaningless titles from two punk kids," Dave grunted, rolling his eyes at John's comment.

"I'm not talking about that!" John yelled, forcibly throwing his title belt down to the ground. The metal made a loud cracking sound against the concrete floor, ricocheting all around the hallway. The leather slapped against the ground, causing Dave to jump.

"Then what are you talking about, John? All you do is yell and scream about nonsense and bullshit that no one cares about."

"I'm talking about you being lucky that no one got hurt tonight. You're so fucking careless, man! Did you not see the way you threw Ted down? If he didn't know that he was being thrown wrong and if he didn't turn at the last minute to land on his back, that kid would have a torn rotator cuff at the very _least_. And you think you deserve that belt…"

"What? You don't want a title run? Wow, Cena, that's shocking."

John bent down at picked up the title belt that didn't have his name on it up from the ground. He glared at his reflection in the belt and then glanced down at the engraving. He held the belt up next to his face and spoke again. "Look at the name on your belt. _That's_ who has worked hard to get this belt. He didn't have the advantage of fame and popularity to help him score this to put over his pay per view match. Hell, he didn't even have the advantage of his _father_ to help him through this. You need to respect this. You really need to respect this industry." His arm fell, and the title belt dragged against the floor as he walked off.

Dave looked at the title belt that seemed all too small in his large hands. Seeing Cody's name engraved at the bottom, he remembered that this kid held the thing for about ten months. But even so, he so easily had to drop it for the well-being of Batista's career, even if Dave would only be a transitional champion.

Dave swung the title belt over his shoulder and looked up, a smile sweeping his face. _It's good to be me_, he thought as he strutted off to the locker room.

* * *

"Remember, Mickie, when you were feuding with Trish Stratus? You had that sick, lesbian crush on her, or something?" Beth Phoenix asked as she stood on the ramp, much to the enjoyment of the male audience in attendance. "Remember how she brought me out to destroy you?"

"Yeah! And then Victoria broke your jaw! I remember exactly!" Mickie squealed, standing in the ring, alone.

"Well, I need you to get off my back. And I've got just the person to do it. No, it's not an old friend of yours. Hell, it's not even an old friend of mine. But since no one else has met her…"

Beth quickly ran backstage. When she returned, she was not alone. No, Santino was not making his presence known, either. She brought with her an equally blonde female, similar in body type to most of the Divas. She was no Beth Phoenix, of course, but who could be?

Mickie erupted in shrill laughter in the ring. "Are you serious? _That's_ what you bring with you to fend me off? Wow, that's pathetic, Beth. That's really pathetic. No offense to my girl Kelly, but this mystery woman doesn't even look like she could beat Kelly Kelly! But, by the looks of it, neither could _you_, Beth."

"I'm not finding this very funny. Do you, Danielle?" Beth asked the mystery woman next to her, who merely shook her head.

"I don't care what you think," the feisty brunette in the ring asked. "But it just so happens that I've brought a friend of my own with me tonight. And I think that there's something…_familiar_ about her, Beth. You might remember her and what you did to her."

Beth's eyes widened. She knew what she was up for.

Mickie turned around and extended her arm out to the crowd behind Jerry Lawler and Michael Cole, as if her "mystery" guest would appear from there. The familiar words '_let me show you what love is_' echoed throughout the arena, and everyone cheered for one of their favorite, hard-working Divas. Mickie pretended to look confused, almost as if to silently ask the crowd if they knew where Candice Michelle was.

Beth and Danielle furiously looked around the arena themselves, looking for the raven haired woman, who was in their mind, the devil spawn of the WWE Divas.

While standing next to her new protégé, Beth hit the ground, and she hit it hard. Candice Michelle bull rushed her from behind and tackled her as if she was a lineman sacking Tom Brady. Beth's blonde head smacked the metal of the stage, and a thin line of blood started to seep out from her hairline, no blading necessary.

Before Danielle could react and help out Beth, she was also being viciously attacked by Mickie James, who had ran up to the stage before either of the heels could realize what was going on.

"How do you like that, huh, Beth?!" Candice screeched, pointing to her recently healed clavicle as she curb stomped Beth as much as possible.

"And how's this for the newest Diva?" Mickie asked Candice as she held Danielle's face in between her hands.

Candice giggled and licked her palm, giving an ode of her own to the one and only Trish Stratus. However, instead of a knife edge chop, she slapped Danielle right across the cheek. Danielle slumped to the ground, holding her reddening cheek.

"That's for messing around in _my_ territory," Candice whispered in her ear, holding Mickie's arm up in victory, even though there was no match to be wrestled.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is how desperate I am. (I have no idea if any of what I've written actually happened in the match. I try not to relive any matches where Cody is forced to be in the same ring with either Cena or Batista.)**

_Cena and Batista? They aren't a team._

The words that Cody Rhodes had spoken earlier in the night were ringing through Dave's head as he stood face to face with the very man inside the ring. Everything about the arrogant young Superstar in front of him was starting to bother him. His dark hair, his stupid blue trunks, even the Triforce logo on his boots was getting on Dave's nerves. He wanted nothing more than to _really_ show the cockiest tag team since John Morrison and the Miz just how much of a team he could be with John Cena.

Little did Dave know, the young and inexperienced men were right.

Cena was in the middle of the ring with a headlock on Ted DiBiase. He dragged the son of the Million Dollar Man back into his corner. Dave's confidence got the better of him. He knew that he had to be the one to retain the titles for his team. He had a match against John Cena in two weeks at Summerslam, and he wanted to intimidate his future opponent. He wanted John to fear him. He wanted to be Superman's kryptonite.

He blind tagged himself in, much to John's dislike. "What the hell, man?" John asked before being the rule follower that he was and taking his place on the apron, tightly gripping the rope.

But John Cena wasn't stupid. He knew what Dave was trying to do, so he returned the favor, causing Dave to get just a _little_ enraged.

Dave refused to exit the ring. He pushed Cena hard in the chest. "What the fuck?"

"I'm just doing what you did," Cena replied, starting to head for the fallen Ted in the ring.

"I'm trying to win. I was trying to save your ass. I didn't need to be saved."

"Doesn't seem like that to me. Look, we're going to _lose_ our titles if you don't get your ass out on that apron!" John yelled, pointing to the turnbuckle next to him.

"_I'm_ the legal man, Cena."

"Not since I tagged in, you aren't."

Their argument was abruptly ended when both men were assaulted at the same time. Cody had tackled Dave, sending both of them out of the ring. Ted flipped John over, rolling him up and scoring the quick three count, earning their World Tag Team Championship back.

The two young men smartly grabbed their title belts and scurried away to the back, leaving John Cena and Dave Batista alone together to, for lack of better terms, settle their differences. Both men stood in the ring together, face to face, glaring at one another. Their looks were so intense that it seemed that lasers would soon be shooting from their eyes.

Faster than anyone could tell who started it, both men were at each other's throats, attempting to beat each other senseless.

* * *

Recovering from the scuttle in the ring, Dave held an ice pack over his sore knee. He was thinking about how intricately he was going to decimate John Cena at Summerslam. He had cost them the titles. That was something that was not easily forgettable in the WWE.

The knock on the door pulled him out of his trance, and probably for the best before he started delicately planning the epic murder of John Cena.

"Candice? What's up, girl?" he said, allowing the Diva to enter his locker room.

She looked stressed, more stressed than Dave had ever seen her. "Remember how you said you'd always have my back? How you'd always look after me and make sure that no one would mess with me?"

"Yeah," Dave said, half-heartedly. Now was not the time when he really wanted to help out his good friend. He, as well, was stressed and had an important match to concentrate on.

"I'm…The new girl. She doesn't like me, and I'm afraid of what she's going to do to me," Candice whimpered.

"Last I heard, you and Mickie took care of her," Dave said, leaning against the wall and adjusting the ice pack.

"Well…we _did_, but she's friends with Beth Phoenix. Good friends. Look, Dave, I just want some extra backup, you know?"

Dave nodded. Even though he was currently in a high profile fight with one of his own friends, or someone who used to be a friend, he couldn't ignore Candice. She was a sweet woman who would (usually) never hurt a fly. This new girl must really be bothering her.

"Okay, Candice. Let's go."

* * *

"No."

"You haven't even talked to her yet, Dave!" Candice whined, stomping her feet.

"I am not hitting a girl," Dave said, seeing Danielle for the first time.

"You can't even just…talk to her? Ask her what her deal is?"

"I heard you slapped her. I'm pretty sure she isn't going to want to talk to you, let alone me. Now can I please go and rest my knee?"

Candice pouted, causing Dave to melt with weakness.

"Fine."

He marched up to the new Diva who was sitting with Beth Phoenix and Katie Lea Burchill.

"What the hell do you want?" Beth asked, seeing the Animal approach them.

"To talk to her," he replied, pointing at Danielle.

"I have a name, you know," she retorted. "Didn't your mother ever teach you that pointing is rude?"

"Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's rude to be a bitch?" Dave retorted, but he instantly found out that was a mistake.

Danielle stood up, shooting daggers at the much larger man. "I don't care what kind of man you _think_ you are around here, but I do not and _will not_ answer to you. I don't know what idea your little dick whipped bitch over there," she nodded in the back to Candice, "had in mind, but I surely will not be going along with it."

Beth and Katie observed the scene before them with dropped jaws. They didn't know Danielle for that long, but they didn't expect _anyone_ to speak to Dave like that.

"It's no wonder you hang out with these two," Dave grumbled.

"So that's the best you got?"

"No, I can do you one better."

"Try me."

Dave did nothing. The two both leaned over the table, staring at one another, their noses almost touching. Dave looked like murder, and Danielle had an evil grin on her face.

"I'm waiting," she said, pulling back. Yet, Dave still did nothing. "So, you're all talk. Good to know."


End file.
